Kiss Today Goodbye
by Swamp Fairy
Summary: There's only one inevitable to life, and that's death... character!death, minor P/H and S/N.
1. Hardison

**A/N: I know, I should be working on the Undead Job. I'm sorry, but I've had this one sitting on my desktop for ages, and I was so proud of it, I had to post it... it's NaNoWiMo, though, (google it), so I'm probably not going to be posting anything until December. Don't worry, though, I promise I'll be back. Don't own anything. Enjoy :D**

"Parker," Nate called, knocking gently on the door to the warehouse. "It's time to go."

No answer. "Told you so," Sophie said knowingly, but there was nothing smug in her tone.

"Parker, running away from the truth is not going to help," Nate said more firmly, pushing against the door. Locked.

"And maybe forcing her to go isn't going to help either, ever think of that?" muttered Elliot, kneading the sides of his forehead. Only the dark circles under his eyes revealed that he had been crying.

"Here," Sophie said softly, moving Nate aside and punching in the code on the door. "Parker? We're coming in." She led the way into the desolate warehouse, empty except for a tiny arrangement in the very center, illuminated by a blinding spotlight. Shelves and mirrors, fully equipped with all sorts of illegal-looking devices, surrounded a queen bed, white on white, completely impersonal. In the middle of the bed huddled a young woman, knees up to her chest, big stuffed rabbit held tight.

Parker didn't acknowledge their presence as they entered, hair forming a gold curtain around her face. "Parker?" Sophie asked softly, sitting down next to her, close but not quite touching. "I know this is hard for you, but it would mean a lot to me if you could come with us." Parker stubbornly, wordlessly shook her head, and Elliot dropped down on the other side of her.

"Listen, sweetheart," he started. "You're hurting right now. I get that. We're all hurting. But this will help, I promise. Closure and all that." Still, she shook her head and Nate, who had stayed out of the circle of light, unable to deal with anyone else's pain just now, stepped up.

"You're the greatest thief of the century, maybe even of all time. You leap off buildings for fun, face death on a daily basis. What's so scary about a wooden box and a hole in the ground?"

Finally, a response. She glared up at him, eyes blazing. "I'm not afraid of anything!"

"Oh, really? Prove it."

"Fine," she said, tossing her hair back. "No big deal." But it was.

"Come on, cowgirl," Elliot said. "That's right." He headed out, shooting a killer glare at Nate, Parker trailing after like a puppy.

"Really, did you have to be so harsh?" Sophie asked, laying a hand on his arm and letting the two younger theives leave ahead of them.

"It got her moving, didn't it?" he demanded flatly, not meeting her gaze. "It was exactly what she needed."

"Nate, please talk," she said, moving around front of him, preventing him from leaving. "You're scaring me."

"I can't do this right now," he said, raising a shaking hand to his face. "It's not so easy for all of us to just open up."

"You know, you're not the only one who misses him!" she exclaimed, suddenly angry. "And it's not just about you! Elliot barely sleeps at all any more, spends hours down in the basement tearing apart punching bags. And Parker? She's never going to love again, it's as simple as that. She was already broken, Nate, and now she's past the point of any hope of repair. But you don't see any of that, do you? You just see your own pain, your own..." But she broke down crying. Nate gathered her into his arms, stroking her hair, breathing in her familiar scent.

"I lost a son once," he murmured, throat dry, unsure if she could even hear him. "I don't know if I can survive it again."

_"Again, man?" complained the hacker. "Why am I always the one getting attached to bombs?" Though he tried for light-heartedness, his face shined with a layer of sweat and his voice cracked up an octave._

_"Just shut up and let me do this," Elliot growled, examining the device strapped to Hardison's chest. It was a black cube, wires protruding out of it and linking back in. The neon numbers proclaimed '4:32' and was counting down far too quickly. "If I cut the right cord..."_

_"If you cut the wrong cord, it blows," Hardison said through gritted teeth. "Listen, Elliot. You've gotta get out of here while you still have time."_

_"I'm not going anywhere! If I choose randomly..."_

_"Then we both die," Hardison said. "I'm not kidding. You've gotta go. It's safe outside."_

Outside, the hitter and thief sat silently, side by side, as different as could be. He slouched, she sat up straight. His face was creased into a frown, hers was expressionless. His hands clenched and unclenched in fists, hers loosely clasped her rabbit.

"So, how are you... how are you doing?" he asked gruffly, uncomfortably. He really, really didn't want to have a feelings talk with Parker, but someone had too before she went and did something stupid.

"It's like there's a hole," she said, thumping her chest with a fist. "Right here."

He turned to face her, seriously studying her for the first time since the incident. She was much thinner than before, her clothes hanging loose on her frame, bones in her hands standing out clearly. Her eyes were red with enormous dark circles underneath, and her cheeks was bordered on gray. A crease in her brow suggested a permanent frown. At least she was talking to him again. She had refused to do even that for a week.

"Are you eating?" he asked anxiously. "Sleeping okay?"

Her expression didn't change as she shrugged. "I had some cereal yesterday, and orange soda this morning. I sleep... sometimes."

"God," he muttered, shaking his head. "That settles it. I'm going to talk to Sophie and see if you can stay with her."

She shook her head vehemently, giving him a faceful of hair. "No," she repeated. "I can't yet."

"Parker." He reached out to touch her, but she flinched away. Elliot realized that none of them but Sophie had touched her at all since it happened, and even the grifter couldn't do so without recieving a dirty look for her troubles. She really was unlearning everything she had gained. He ignored it and pushed her hair back behind her ear."You're not taking care of yourself."

"Why should I?" she retorted angrily, tears shining in her eyes. "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does!" Elliot shouted, then closed his eyes as he took a moment to regain control. "Parker, we all still care about you. I know it would absolutely kill Nate to lose you too."

She wiped her face off with her bunny's ear. "I just miss him."

"We all do."

_"Do it already!" Nate ordered into the earpiece. "Elliot, either cut the wire or get out of there. You're running out of time!"_

_The clock read 3:23._

__

"No, dude. You'd better not," Hardison warned, twisting in the chair to try to get away from the hitter. "There are twenty different wires. There's no way you're going to choose the right one!"

"So what, you just expect him to leave you there?" Sophie demanded over the comm, voice shaking.

"Parker, where are you?" demanded Hardison, ignoring her.

"On my way," she answered, voice tight. "But I'm not going to get there in time."

"Good," Hardison said softly. "Listen, sweetheart, you know..." But he broke off, shaking his head.

"Ellliot, cut the wire," Parker told him firmly. "I'm almost there."

There were no more than a dozen or so people there. The four of them, of course, plus his fabled nana, a brother none of them had known about, a few old friends no one recognized, two or three clients, and a homeless man. Sophie cried all through the service, Elliot practically holding her up while Nate was off drinking down all the alcohol the church had to offer. Parker stood off on her own, head bowed, stuffed animal trailing in the dirt. The box stayed closed, empty, and Elliot wasn't the only one to morbidly wonder just where the bits and pieces of their friend were now.

Unsure of what to do, they had simply made an anonymous phone call to his foster mother, figuring one solid police investigation would land all of them in jail. And the death of Alec Hardison, hacker extrodinaire? There would be more than just one police investigation. Besides, they figured that since she had raised him, she had the right to make the decisions. Then she made all the wrong decisions and each one of them had regretted agreeing to it.

The service was read by a priest who didn't know anything about anything, and preached in a monotone about heaven and how 'good men' would all be welcome. Good men. Right, because he was such a 'good' man. And that was entirely aside from the fact that despite his nana's constant bible pounding, he was one of the least religious people they knew. The coffin was a horrible mahogony wood, and of course, she wanted it burried in Ohio where he had grown up.

At last, the coffin was carried over to the hole and lowered in slowly, too slowly. They didn't bother with the whole handful of dirt thing- no, the grave diggers just shoveled the soil in as fast as they could. The tombstone simply read his name and said "Love is all the wealth you need." His mystery brother had picked it. The entire team hated it with a passion.

One by one, the visitors trickled out, until only his mother, brother, and team were left.

"If you'd appreciate it, I'd like some time alone with my son," the woman said icily.

"We were more of his family than you were!" Parker spat vindictively, not caring whether or not it was true, but Elliot grabbed her and dragged her away. "We'll just wait until they leave. Don't worry," he murmured, looking around for the others. Sophie had collapsed cross-legged, leaning back against an old, worn away gravestone. Nate stood awkwardly beside her, champage glass clutched practically to point of shattering in his hand.

"Come on," Elliot said, pulling her towards the pair. "There they are."

_"Are you seriously doing this?" Hardison asked, not even attempting levity anymore. "What sort of honor is there in going down with me?"_

_"You're my best freaking friend," Elliot said harshly, stopping his fiddling for a second to meet the hacker's eyes. "Even if I don't always show it."_

_Speechless for a moment, Hardison just watched him. Then he spoke. "I'm really screwed, aren't I?"_

_"We're both going to get out of this," the hitter said firmly. "I promise."_

"Promise?" Parker asked her rabbit seriously. She listened intently for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. I'll agree to that." She raised one eyebrow threateningly. "But you'd better not back out."

"Parker. Are you talking to your stuffed animal?" Sophie asked, leaning forwards. Parker glared at her without answer then turned back to the bunny. Two weeks ago, Sophie would have laughed and told her that tweny-six year old women didn't hold conversations with inanimate objects. But today, she simply sighed and sat back. After all, what was the point? Why try to fix something when not all of the pieces were there? Nate crouched down beside her and lay a gentle hand on the grifter's shoulder. Ignoring the faint smell of alcohol that accompanied his breath, she leaned into his touch, needing it more than he could know. But of course he knew, because all he wanted was for someone to be there for _him_.

"Hey, Sophie," Elliot spoke in an undertone. "I was thinking that maybe Parker could stay with you for a while. I don't think she's coping too well on her own."

"And how is she supposed to be coping, exactly?" Sophie demanded viciously. "How the hell are any of us supposed to be coping?" She took a deep breath, counted backwards from ten. "I'm sorry. You're right. Of course she-"

"I was actually wondering if all of you wanted to stay at my place for the next couple of nights," Nate put in. "I know you all agreed that you needed space, but we're still a team and I think we need to... you know... be together more."

"Yeah," Elliot agreed. "I would like that."

_"That's it," Nate snapped, pacing back and forth in his living room. "Elliot, you have to get out of there! Only a minute left."_

_"I'm not leaving him," the hitter stated._

_"Then cut the damn wire already!" Sophie said loudly. "Hurry."_

_"I'm still three minutes away," Parker panted over the com. "I'm not going to make it."_

_"Go," Hardison said, locking eyes with his friend. "Take care of them."_

_"I can't!" the cowboy exclaimed, anguished. "I can't!"_

"Can't they hurry up?" Sophie complained, staring at the pair still standing over the grave. "Are they trying to drive us away?"

"Probably," said Nate. "The brother's a business man, did you know? And that foster mother, a real bible banger. I doubt they approved of his lifestyle, or of us."

"Is that why he wouldn't let me meet them?" Parker asked acutely. "Was he afraid I'd embarass him?"

"Oh, no, sweetie," Sophie said at once, pulling away from Nate and crouching down by her again. This time, Parker didn't flinch as the older woman wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "He was afraid they'd hurt you."

"Oh. They wouldn't have," she said matter of factly.

"I know that. He was just protecting you."

"Like he was protecting Elliot?" she demanded, eyes blazing. No one had an answer to that, but then Elliot wordlessly pointed over her shoulder. Nana and the business man brother had turned and were leaving the cemetary. As one, the four rose and slowly, slowly walked over to it. Unlike at the funeral, they stood together now, clutching each other for support. Not even Sophie was crying anymore, but as they stared at the foreboding stone, they all felt the same sick emptiness.

"No way in hell there's a god," Elliot said, voice trembling with rage. "No way in hell."

"I just can't believe he's gone," Sophie whispered. "That he's never coming back."

"His soda and computer bits are still lying around my apartement," Nate said. "I just can't get rid of them yet, you know?"

Then, to everyone's surprise, Parker chimed in. "But we still have each other. Right?"

"Of course," the other three said at once. Sophie finished for them. "And we're _never_ going to leave."

_"Leave. Just get out of here. They can't take care of themselves without you, you know that! Let me know you made it out."_

_"Goddamnit!" Elliot roared, rising and clutching his head. The clock was on 30 seconds._

_"Elliot," Hardison said, voice low and level. "Please."_

_The hitter stared at his friend for a long second, then spoke. "I'm sorry. Forgive me." And he turned and ran._

_His footsteps pounded through the building, his heart pounded in his head. Anger flowed through his veins, and fear. And disgust. That was the one moment in his life where he had truly and completely hated himself._

_Five._

_Four._

_Three._

_Two._

_One._

_And he burst out of the warehouse, flung himself as far away as possible. Then, for his eternal puratogry, he turned and forced himself to watch. An ear-shattering boom rattled the ground as the building burst into flames. Windows shattered, smoke rose up and away. And it was over. He was gone._

**IMPORTANT A/N: So, this is going to be part of series. In each installation, a different one of them will have been strapped to the chair. They will all be written in different styles, under different circumstances. But they will all focus on death and how the others deal with it. Please review!**


	2. Sophie

**Hey, y'all. Sorry the second update took so long... NaNoWriMo. Anyways, I got a request for Sophie to be up next, so here we are!**

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* * *

**"You're not going anywhere until I talk to your manager," the businessman snarled. His face was flushed and sweaty, and his eyes kept flickering back and forth between Hardison's face and the clock. His thick fingers clenched and unclenched into fists.

"She... she... she doesn't see people," Hardison stammered. "If you let me go, I can _promise_ the money will be on your doorstep by tomorrow."

"Oh yeah? I think I'd rather keep you as insurance. I know you have a wire somewhere. Get your boss in here now or I'll shoot you and be done with it!"

"Alright, alright!" Hardison put his hand up to his ear, turned his face away. "Guys," he hissed. "Come get me out of here!"

"I'm right outside, Nate," Elliot said over the headset. "Three minutes, in and out."

"There are at least a dozen guys with guns. Too risky," the mastermind decided at once. "We need a boss."

"I'm just about there," Sophie said. "Tell them I'm coming."

"No!" Nate snapped. "You already have a part. Parker's doing this one."

"I'm outside now," Parker said. "You need me in?"

"Hurry up!" Hardison muttered, glancing around at the guards. They were ready and all too willing to turn him into a piece of swiss cheese, he was sure. "They look a little trigger happy!"

"Yes, Parker. Go. Be careful," Nate started. "And-"

"No. Parker, don't you dare go anywhere. Nate, this one is way too big for her," Sophie argued.

"Sophie, you listen to me..."

"No, Nate, _you_ listen to _me_. You are not sending her in there."

"What do I do?" Parker demanded, an edge to her voice.

"Get in there now," Nate ordered.

"If you trust me, don't go in," Sophie said. "You're going to get yourself killed, and Hardison too." Whether it was the question of trust or the threat on the hacker's life, Parker obeyed her.

"She's coming," Hardison said aloud at last, swallowing hard. "She'll be here in a few minutes."

"Good," the man growled. "She'd better be. And then she and me are going to have a nice little chat that will end with her giving me everything I was promised!" He grabbed the pistol away from one of the guards, popped off the safety. It shook in his hands, but Hardison didn't doubt that at this range, it wouldn't take more than a shot to knock him down for good. The businessman licked his lips nervously. Over his headset, Hardison could hear a brief muffled exchange between Elliot, Parker, and Sophie, and then a firm knock rang out on the door.

"Go let her in," the man said, jerking his head at the door and not taking his eyes off of the hacker. One of the guards hurried away, lifting his gun up on his shoulder as he disappeared behind a huge stack of crates. Hardison heard a bang as the door swung open, then Sophie appeared around the corner, the guard clutching her upper arm tightly. She looked suitably indignant and just a bit frightened, but Hardison could see the nervous way she twisted her fingers and the slight tremor in her legs. They made brief, grim eye contact, then she was shoved roughly to the ground.

"Get him out of here," the businessman ordered. "A deal's a deal, isn't it?"

"I'd rather stay here, thank you very much," Hardison said bravely, but two of the guards grabbed him, dragging him out. He struggled, but not too much- he didn't particularly want to die, after all. He could hear Sophie pleading with the man, then he was rolling across the dusty desert ground and the metal door had slammed shut. For a few seconds he was alone, entirely off-kilter, and then Parker and Elliot were there, picking him up, brushing him off. The three stared at the imposing metal building. "What do we do now?"

* * *

Sophie felt the fear, all too familiar, twisting her stomach. But like always, she was able to control it. After all, Samantha Bennet wouldn't be just about to start screaming, would she? And right now, she wasn't Sophie Devereux. She was Samantha Bennet. She had to be, or she was dead.

"I have your money," she said at once, struggling to sit up and brush the dust off her front. "But detaining my consultant? Very unprofessional."

"It's about to get a lot more unprofessional, I can promise you that," the businessman- what was his name?- shouted, a bit of spit landing on her. Grimacing, she wiped it off. "I'll tell you what's unprofessional, what's unprofessional is trying to play me. _Me_!"

"I don't know what you mean," she said bravely, trying to keep up the facade.

"Oh, really? Then why, may I ask, were my accounts switched around? Sloppy, very sloppy." _Damn it, Hardison. _"I know exactly what you're trying to do- move my money into _your_ funds!"

Well, at least he still thought she was Ms. Bennet. That was a plus. Right? "What do you want?"

"I want my money back," he snarled. "And I want your money, too."

"I can do that," she said placatingly. "Just name a sum and it's yours."

He laughed. "Really? You're just going to give it to me? I don't think so. Search her." Two of the men jumped on her. Sophie twisted, trying to scream, but thankfully they just grabbed her purse. Then she realized that was where all the money was. Well, now was she was suitable screwed. The fear started to claw its way up her throat.

"Thank you," the man laughed, bowing deeply. "Well, I think this should just about cover it, huh?"

"It's yours," she said, trying to keep her voice from trembling. She failed, miserably. "I have an appointment I need to make, and if I don't show up..."

"Please," he scoffed. "Are you still trying to threaten me? No, I'm not done with you. I'm going to send a message to everyone else out there who thinks they can get a one-up on people like us."

"What are you talking about?" she demanded, not noticing that her American accent was gone. A tear made its way down her cheek. He stepped close to her, pulled her forcibly off the ground.

"You have a wire too," he said loudly. "Hopefully your friends can hear this. I'm going to take the lady here, tie her up, and lock her in. Me and my associates are going to leave the building, and then we're going to trigger the bomb strapped to that wall." Before he had even finished talking, she had grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him between the legs. He went down and she turned to run, but she hadn't even made it a yard before one of the guards had tackled her.

"Stop this!" she pleaded, crying hard now as the man who had tackled her duck taped her wrists behind her back. "Murder? You'll never get away with it!"

"Oh, I certainly will," he sneered. "And in style too. You see, this bomb is remote activated, so we'll be watching the video. If no one comes for you in half an hour then it's lights out, but if they do... it won't just be a single murder I'll get away with."

"Help me! One of you must realize this is wrong," she shouted at the guards. One by one, they all turned away, heading towards the door.

"Night night," the businessman laughed, pointing at the black box beeping on the wall. The door shut behind him with a bang. For a second, Sophie just leaned back against the wall, sobbing, then she took a deep breath, blinked, and stood to get to work.

"This is why I didn't want you in there!" Nate raged furiously.

"No, you wanted Parker here instead," she snapped, and that shut him up. "Elliot, Hardison, Parker, don't come in here."

"What are you talking about?" Elliot demanded. "As soon as those goons are out of sight we're in there."

She was about to argue, then realized it was futile. After all, what would she do if it was one of them in here instead? So she took matters into her own hands, struggling to her feet and tripping across the dirty floor to the door. A deadly calm was creeping over her- she wasn't letting any of the others get sucked into this with her. A true villain- or hero, for that matter- knew when to give up. And when not to. So she flung herself against the enormous stack of crates, watching with horror as it leaned towards her... then away, toppling with an enormous crash against the door.

"If you heard that, I just blocked off the only entrance," she said, tears blurring her vision again. "You three stay out."

"Not happening, Sophie," Elliot said warningly. "We're not leaving you in there."

She took a deep breath and started back across the room, wishing she had prepared better for a situation like this. "Parker? Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," the girl said. "Whatever you're doing, don't, alright?"

"Darling, take care of the boys for me. You're strong, you'll be okay."

"Sophie, don't be an idiot," Hardison warned. "We're going to get you out of there!"

She smiled sadly. "Don't be angry. Please. You too, Elliot. I love you all."

All three of them started to talk, but Nate, regaining his voice, cut through them all. "Let them go in for you," he said, pleading. Begging. "Let them save you."

"Not this time," she said softly. "Thank you. For everything."

"Sophie!" His voice was slipping into desperation. "God damn it!"

She gasped down a sob, unable to choke out a response. She couldn't listen to them anymore without changing her mind. So she shook her head wildly until her earbud fell out, crackling on the floor. That done with, she stepped up to the small black box. She knew how it worked. Cut even one of the wires and it would blow. It had to blow, too, before any of the others got inside. She glanced down at her earbud one last time, then leaned forwards. And bit the wire.

* * *

Nate was drunk. Again. These days, he was always either drunk or hungover. Often both. It was the same as when his son had died. Only not. And he wanted to die, too. What sort of god would do this to him, take away everyone he loved?

Parker and Hardison and Elliot certainly didn't make it any easier. Just as Maggie hadn't made it any easier back then- so many parellels. But they were all just living reminders. Elliot wasn't so bad, but it could have so easily been Parker or Hardison instead, and in his more drunken moments, when he got sick of cursing and breaking things, he would wish it had been one of them. It was terrible, he knew that. But being terrible felt good sometimes.

He knew the others were upset too, but he couldn't help but hate them, just a little bit, no matter how many times Parker wandered up to him, teary-eyed, looking for all the world like an abandoned puppy, or Elliot would stay up for days on end making sure he ate something. None of them were her, not even close, and all three of them together couldn't make up for it.

She came to him, sometimes. Yeah, he was piss-drunk and half-asleep and it was nothing more than a hallucination, but he could swear that afterwords he could smell a trace of her perfume. He lived for those hallucinations. Literally. Once he had smashed a bottle and tried to cut himself with it. He wished he had succeeded, but Hardison had found him first. Whatever.

He slept and drank and maybe ate and drank more. That was it. That was more than he deserved. She had been beautiful and good and everything he wasn't. So why was she dead and he stuck here? Maybe it was his own personal purgatory, and there was nothing he could do about it. Well, there was one thing. He could open another bottle.

So he did.

* * *

**Wow, that was really difficult for me to write... I don't know why. I got all teary at the end and everything. Anyways, please review! Otherwise I may have to set Spanish Buzz on you. Plus also they always motivate me and no one wants another several month hiatus, do they? Or maybe you do. Hopefully not. But whatever. Review!**


	3. Elliot

**Hey, I told you guys I'd be back soon! Thank you SO MUCH to everyone who reviewed. Oh, and in case you were wondering, this is ignoring the HOLY-CRAP-THEY-SLEPT-TOGETHER season hooker. So ya. :D**

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Nate stumbled downstairs, surveyed his living room blearily. They were all there, sprawled out over various pieces of furnitures, fast asleep. Parker was curled up in a tiny ball on the couch, looking so much more peaceful asleep than awake. Hardison lay on the floor beside her. His shirt was wet from the now-empty beer bottle clutched tighetly in his hand. Sophie- thank god he still had her- had fallen asleep sitting up in his armchair. And though the room was much more cluttered and much more of a mess than usual, there was absolutely no distracting from the missing person.

"Nate?" Sophie asked softly and he jumped.

"Thought you were asleep," he muttered, rubbing his face. "I was just getting advil."

She nodded, accepting it. Drunkness wasn't an issue right now. "I can't seem to sleep anymore."

"I know what you mean."

"I'm glad we're all here," she whispered. "I feel better when I can see them, know they're alright."

Nate followed her gaze to the thief and the hacker and understood what she felt- there were times when he just had to look at them, to reassure himself that two of them were still there. Because that was always how they had been classified: Nate and Sophie, and those three. Two parents and three children. It had felt perfect, like they were puzzle pieces. And now there was a gaping hole in the middle of the puzzle. Sometimes he felt like they were all gone, simply because they were so lost without him. And it was hard to imagine two of them here, one of them gone. Impossible.

Sophie had taken it the hardest. They were all broken, but her most of all. He knew that while he had cared about all three of them, something inside his heart had scabbed when his son had died, something that kept him from caring about them the way Sophie did. They were the kids that she would never get to have. Messed up, crazy, and downright bad, maybe. But she still loved them enormously.

Parker blinked and stirred, and Sophie was there in a heartbeat. "Hey, sweetheart," she murmured, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Parker let her. That was Parker now- apathetic. She wouldn't stop them from touching her, from brushing her hair or giving her a hug, but she wouldn't encourage it, either. "Are you alright?"

Nate watched from the kitchen, knowing in his heart exactly what was going to happen. This scene had played out between him and Maggie over and over again. "I'm going to kill them," Parker said. "All of them."

"We'll hurt them," Sophie promised her. "Later. Go back to sleep now."

"You know, there was one set of foster parents I didn't mind," Parker whispered, sinking back down. "They had me when I was eight. I got sick one time and the woman made me soup and sang to me."

"Why'd you have to leave?" she asked, though Nate could tell by the sudden set of her back that she didn't really want to know.

"Their son," she answered blearily, then was silent. Sophie shuddered slightly, her hand stilling on the girl's hair.

Forgetting about the advil, Nate came to stand behind her, hands on her shoulders, feeling utterly empty. "Come up with me," he said, hearing the pleading note in his voice. "Please."

She hesitated for a long moment, her hair gleaming in the moonlight shining in from the window. "You only want me because you're hurting," she answered at last, a catch in her throat. "Stay down here with us."

He considered it, looking down to where the hacker was sprawled out on the floor- he'd be hungover in the morning, in pain both mentally and physically and going right back to the bottle for relief. He was exactly where Nate had been five years ago, and he'd need help. Help that Nate couldn't give him, didn't want to have the responsability of giving him. And Parker, god, where to start with her? He could barely take care of himself, so how was he supposed to help her?

He shook his head and couldn't meet Sophie's eyes as he walked away, knowing he'd see the accusation there and then guilt would top the horrible grief threatening to engulf him. Giving his heart to any of them had been a huge mistake, he could see that now. He'd known it at the time, known but not really. He hadn't believed that anything would happen. They were invincible, or it had sure as hell seemed like it. Then the most powerful of them all had fallen.

As he walked up the stairs, he idly noticed a puddle of water at the top... gleaming dark in the moonlight... he stared absentmindedly at it as he stepped higher. It seemed deep, endless almost, and he couldn't pull his eyes away from it... Another step up, then another... and he was on the top. He slowly planted his foot down on it and was not surprised when it went forwards, body flying backwards... hitting the steps slowly, so slowly... Sophie screamed...

And then Nate jerked awake, sweating and trembling, tangled up in his covers. He climbed out quickly, needing to shake the nightmare that wasn't really a nightmare. Except for the puddle, that same scene happened in its various forms nearly every night, for real. He leaned on the windowsill, looking out over the blinking, noisy city and told himself it was just the wind stinging his eyes. He could go down, he knew, play out his dream for real, but it was getting to the point where he couldn't always tell if it was dream or real life. So he didn't go down, he just stared out at the city as the sun rose, wondering where the fifth puzzle piece was.

The men who had done this were out there somewhere, Nate thought, balling his hands into angry fists. Out there, asleep peacefully, or maybe awake, also enjoying the view while their victims would never get that pleasure again. It was so bitterly unfair that bile rose into his throat and he coughed roughly.

He couldn't stay up here anymore, alone with his thoughts, dream or not. So he wrapped a robe around himself and stumbled down the (puddleless) steps, down to the living room, which was nearly identical to the room in his dream, except that Sophie was on the couch and Parker in the armchair. He looked around the room, considering, then practically collapsed down on the ground. A strange feeling filled him and he knew he wouldn't dream again that night.

* * *

Hardison woke up first the next morning, head practically splitting open with the pain. He groaned softly, groping for the edge of the table to pull him up, then blearily surveyed the room, blinking the clouds out of his eyes. Clutching a hand to his forehead as if that would help, he tripped into the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine, pulling out the small containor of IB profin. Or at least, that's what he thought it was; the letters danced around out of his reach. He dumped three into his hand and was about to tip them back when a voice suddenly spoke in his ear.

"You really want to take three of Nate's calcium pills?" Parker asked. He gave a yelp, tossing the pills into the air and dumping the water. Parker's hand shot out, almost of its own accord, and grabbed the glass right before it hit the floor.

"Don't do that!" he scolded, grabbing a rag and wiping at his front. "You're going to give me a heart attack, girl!"

She shrugged, reaching around him to grab an apple. He caught her arm, the pain receeding as he focused on her. "It'll help if you talk about what went on in there," he said quietly, firmly. She shook her head, looking at him with that deer-in-headlights stare that usually worked. But not today.

"You can't keep this bottle up," he said. "Sit down. I'll get you something real to eat, and you just talk to me."

"I don't want to," she whimpered.

"I know it's gonna be hard," he agreed. "But you're going to have to do it sooner or later. Better to just get it over with." Gulping, she nodded, and he seated her at the table, starting to run water over the dishes.

"I was in the ventilation shafts," she began darkly. "He was down with the mark..."

"No stalling," Hardison said firmly. "We know what happened up until the activated the timer."

"Alright," she said, calculatingly. "But I want you to promise me something."

"Yeah?"

"If I tell you what happened, you have to play that elf war game."

"World of Warcraft?" he laughed. "Sure." Then he realized why she had wanted him to play it and almost took it back. Sitting down to play that stupid game would almost be like going back to normal, at least for him. She was trying to help him, actually. That should have made him feel at least a little better, but somehow, it just didn't. Not in this case.

"Alright," she said, voice thick. "So I was in the shafts, two floors up, when they set the timer and you guys lost contact. It was isolated outside of the building, though, I could still talk to him. I was trying to find my way down, even though he kept telling me to go. But there were a lot of tunnels, and the timer was going down. I should've taken a right, then a left, then straight down." It sounded perfectly memorized. "I would've made it there. But... but... I took a left first, and then... I tried to go back, but I got turned around, and then I missed his floor and I was climbing back up when... when... the smoke started filling the shaft and I couldn't breathe. I slipped and fell and ended up in the basement, covered in the dust... and he... he was..." She trailed off, staring straight ahead, a tear curving over her cheek. He didn't speak either, the only sound the sound of running water and the ding of the toaster. "It was my fault. All of it."

Then, startling her out of her thoughts, he set a waffle down in front of her. "Now, I'm no gourmet chef," he said. "But considering what we've been eating like lately, this should seem pretty not-bad." He watched her for a second, but got not a single response. She lifted a mechanical bite to her mouth, so, sighing, he sat next to her and opened his laptop.

"What are you doing?" she asked at last, voice slightly hoarse.

"I promised you I would play, so I'm going to play," he said, booting up the game even though it tore a hole in his chest. She simply watched as he took a deep breath and clicked the 'play' button.

"Thanks," she said, laying a tentative hand on his arm.

"No problem."

And that was all.

* * *

**And that's all, folks! Until the mood next strikes me, anyways. But seriously, please review! I can take concrit. I can definitely take compliments. I can even take a simple smiley face. Believe me, it'll make me happy, and I need something to be happy about during exams.**


	4. Nate

**Unfortunately, I got requests for both Parker and Nate to be next. So I'm gonna leave Parker for last just because she's my favorite. Lucky for you I'm in a really bad mood while editing this, so hopefully this one will be pretty sad...**

* * *

Mya sighed deeply, glancing up at the clock on the bar wall. As the hour hand ticked past the IX mark, she tipped her head back and tossed down a shot. The empty glass joined four of its brothers on the sticky surface- she was certainly going to need to find a cab tonight. It didn't matter yet, though. She wasn't nearly done. She dropped her head down against the wood, waving for the bartender to bring another. He raised an eyebrow but complied as a red-head slid into the bar stool beside her.

"Hey," he purred. She flipped her head over at him, confused. Did she know him? "What's your name?" Oh, no. He was hoping to get some.

"Mya," she answered. If nothing else, he'd probably pay for her drinks. That would be nice. She didn't know if she had enough. The world was spinning around her, a face spinning around her. She remember it in perfect detail, or she thought she did. Maybe it was all wrong. It didn't matter. What mattered was that... was that... she had never gotten to tell him... something. What was it that she had wanted to tell him?

"I'm Dave," he told her without being asked. Now that she was looking at him, she could see his hair wasn't really red, sort of a rusty brown. Pretty. She wanted to touch it but doubted she could without falling off her seat. It wasn't usually her practice to get drunk. "What're you doing here?"

"Drinking," she told him in her Russian accent. "Drinking away the memories."

"Well then, next round's on me," he told her. Yeah, there were the drinks.

"Why're you here?" Or at least, that was what she tried to say. Maybe it came out differently. She couldn't tell. He seemed to understand, however.

"Got stood up by my date. Again." He sighed. So he was a nice guy. Cute, too. But sweet young guys had never been her type, had they? Ah, that was what she wanted to tell the face. That she loved him.

"I'm sorry," she told him sincerely. "You see that blond over there? Pretty one? Same thing happened to her. You should... you should... you should talk."

He looked surprised, but grateful. "Thanks," he told her, and pressed a couple bills into her hand. "Here, get a cab home, alright? Let me know if you need help." She nodded and watched as he walked away, blurring as he got farther.

Just then, however, her phone buzzed. She frowned in confusion and nearly fell off her stool while trying to find it, but finally pulled it out. Unable to read the number, she simply answered it. "Hello?" she slurred.

"Sophie?"

Her eyes flew open. She hadn't gone by that name in years. She blinked, ran her rough tongue over smooth teeth, then took a guess. "Elliot?" she asked.

"Hardison," he corrected wryly. "Are you really that plastered?"

"Why are you calling?" she asked. It had been, what, four years, since she had last heard from any one of them?

"It's five years to the day," he answered. "I was wondering if you were in town."

"At the bar," she muttered woozily, blinking around. The lights were too bright, shining in her eyes. "I can't... I'm really drunk."

"I'll be there in five," he answered and clicked off. For a minute she stared straight ahead, then she swayed back to the front and dropped the man's money on the table, unable to even figure out how much it was. Then she slid off and stumbled to the door, opened it and peered out. It was raining. She was unable to sense any sort of passing time but eventually a recognizable van pulled up to the curb and a recognizable young man jumped out, raced over to her.

"Hardison," she murmured again. Sighing, he wrapped his jacket around her shoulders and pulled her back to his car, gently helped her into the passenger seat.

"Are you always this drunk nowadays?" he asked.

"No. Never. Only on anniversaries..." Then she leaned over and puked on his dashboard.

* * *

Parker was in the appartement when Hardison called. She was sprawled out on the floor, typical black break-in clothing on, tool belt digging into her stomach. But for once, she wasn't breaking in to steal anything. Well, aside from the memories, that is.

It wasn't the first time Hardison had called. Actually, he'd done so nearly every day for four years. But this was the first time she'd answered, and she had an awfully hard time even doing that much. When her phone buzzed against her leg, she'd jumped a mile and stared at the foreign object for a few long seconds, even though she had been expecting the call. She hadn't been expecting herself to answer. "Hey," she said matter of factly, wiping tears away, as if it was nothing out of the normal.

"Hey," he said, sounding more than a little surprised. She waited for him to speak, sitting cross legged on the wooden floor. Finally he regained his composure. "Are you in town?"

"I'm in a town," she told him, biting down on her lip. Hard. His voice sounded far too good to her. Too familiar. "Please specify."

"Boston," he told her, a slight laugh to his voice. But he sounded sad, too. Or at least, she thought he did. She had never gotten good at reading voices, even with Sophie's help. "What did you think I meant?"

"Yeah," she told him. "I'm in Boston."

"Where in Boston?"

A long pause. "Nate's appartement." Damnit, there came the tears again.

"And how did you get in there?" Now he sounded resigned.

She glanced towards the open window and had to laugh, just a little bit. "How do you think?"

"Um... so... I was wondering if you wanted to meet up. I've got Sophie in the car, and-"

"Yeah," she answered, surprised at herself. "Let's meet up. That sounds... fun."

"Alright, I'm right outside," he said wryly. "She was in the bar. Come on down."

"Be right there." Sighing, Parker rose and set the picture back on the desk of the empty appartement- Hardison was still the landlord, presumably, and he hadn't ever sold it or even emptied it. For that, she was grateful. For a moment, she stared at the blocky marker drawings. Mommy, Daddy and Me. She reflected for a moment how unfair everything was, on so many levels, then she turned and leapt neatly out the window, sliding down the drainage pipe. The van was waiting.

* * *

Elliot sat on the dusty floor, hair tied back in a ponytail, paging through a carefully crafted scrapbook. Airplane tickets, court orders, alias facebook pages... and the occasional real photograph. Those were the worst. Hardison with his Spock thing, Parker bouncing on her toes beside him, Sophie beaming over the pair, Nate sullen and turned away. Elliot was usually the one behind the camera. Their family unit had meant a lot of all of them, but he was the only one who fully realized it at the time. He was glad he had. Glad, but also angry- it cut like a knife.

He gave a start as his phone rang. He glanced at the number- even after all this time, he still knew it. Still knew all of them. Smiling against his will, coughing back tears, he held it to his ear. "Damnit, Hardison," was his customary greeting. "What the hell are you doing?"

"You know man, a little gratitude would be appreciated! I fly out to Boston- not an easy task, by the way, what with the new airport security- just to find you all, and what thanks do I get? Puke, man! Puke inside my car and a ticket for wall-climbing! Not you too, dude. Not you too!"

Elliot laughed, covering his even greater urge to cry. The hacker was trying _so hard _to make things seem normal. Elliot thanked him silently for that, just that alone. "You're in Boston?"

Hardison gave a long-suffering sigh. "What did you think I was going on about? Yeah, I'm in Boston, and I have the girls with me. You want to come?"

"I'm at my old place," Elliot told him, neglecting to mention that he had never left. Even after the other three had scattered to the four winds, he had remained. Hoping for what? That they would come back? That _he_ would come back? Both? Regardless, he couldn't bring himself to leave. And so he had been living a normal life since then, teaching kids karate, and he knew that this was what he was supposed to be doing, once upon a time, before the war and the jobs and everything else. Once upon a time, he would have loved it, too. And he did enjoy it, at first. It just wasn't... enough.

"Be right there," Hardison answered, and severed at the call. Elliot tipped his head back, let the tears come for a few moments. Then he rose, reshelfing the scrapbook, and washed his face. And went outside to wait.

* * *

"Are we there yet?" Parker moaned from the back.

"Not yet, girl! Hold your horses," Hardison muttered, glancing in the mirror. The blond thief had slumped over dramatically, head on Elliot's shoulder. He was shoving her gently, trying to get her off, but she wasn't budging and he didn't look too unhappy. It was the best thing he had seen in years. Sophie, on the other hand, looked miserable, kept insisting that her name was Mya and was speaking with a Russian accent. Hardison was sad, of course, but elated too, in a way that shouldn't be legal. Bittersweet. Sighing, he pulled off at last, into the small church parking lot. "And now we're here."

Parker was already out the car, but not Sophie. "I'm not going in there," she protested stubbornly, shaking her head, having already figured out where they were. Hardison opened his mouth to respond, but Elliot leaned forwards. "Let me deal with her, man. You go make sure Parker doesn't break anything." Shrugging, the hacker grabbed his flowers and hopped out of the car. He came up beside the blond thief, who had stopped out front, staring up at the steeple with an unreadable expression on her face.

"Hey. You holding up alright?" he asked her quietly.

"You kept calling me," she said softly. "Even though I never answered."

"You knew I would call," he told her. "But you never changed your number."

Just then, Sophie stumbled up besides them. It was incredibly untypical of her to be so hopelessly drunk, and it was rather unnerving. She was preventing the whole thing from seeming at all normal. But maybe that was the way it should be. She was crying already, mascara blurring around her eyes, hair a complete mess. Hardison and Elliot exchanged a knowing look above her head, then Elliot stepped forwards and pushed open the gate to the graveyard.

Sophie knew right were it was, even drunk. She dropped down onto her knees and bowed her head, silent at last. It simply had his name and birth/deathdate. It was right next to his son's, just the way he had wanted. Hardison stepped respectfully around Sophie, lay his flowers down the grass. "We miss you," he said simply. And it was the truth.

They stared there all night. It was freezing out, too, and the ground was wet and it was generally miserable. Sophie cried the entire time. Parker vanished at about two and reappeared on the church roof. Elliot sat, meditating, with his back against a gravestone, and Hardison couldn't bring himself to stop pacing. But the sun came and it was if a weight had lifted off of all of them. It was Nate who had brought them together, Nate who had split them apart, and now Nate who had brought them together again. In a metaphorical moment, Hardison had once considered them to be fingers, but now he changed his mind. The four of them were fingers, maybe, but Nate was the hand.

And then he felt stupid and stopped thinking in metaphors.

Just as it was Sophie who had led them to the grave, it was she who led them away. She finally stood, more hungover than drunk and not too much of either, and looked around at them all. "I'm sorry," she said softly, and they all knew what she was apologizing for. For walking out in the middle of a case so Nate had to go in instead. For not answering her phone when Hardison called for her help. For not looking at Parker during the funeral. For leaving afterwards without a word. For everything.

"None of that now," Elliot said brusquely. "It's all over." And it was. Not that the saddness would ever be gone. Hardison was starting to understand why, even after so many years, Nate couldn't let his son go. It never really left you, did it? But you could learn to move on.

Sophie sniffed. Her British accent was back, and she had stopped asking to be called Mya, at last. "Thank you. All of you."

"Well," Hardison said. "Are we just going to stand around acting mushy or are we going to get out of here?"

"Out of here," Elliot said at once, Parker nodding vehemently.

"I know a great place for pancakes," the hacker told them. "Yes?"

"I like pancakes," Parker said thoughtfully, then turned and took off running. "Race you to the car!"

"What now?" Elliot asked, and both of the other two knew he wasn't talking about breakfast.

"I don't want to leave yet," Sophie told them, staring at the ground, looking so much smaller than they remember. "I'm not ready to leave yet."

"Then don't," Hardison said. "We could make it work again. It would be hard, but we could make it work."

"Without a mastermind?" Elliot asked. _Without Nate?_

"We'll figure it out," Hardison said firmly. "We will."

"Later," Sophie said as the sound of a honking horn echoed from the van. "I think Parker's getting impatient."

"Later," he agreed, heading back towards his car. After all, pancakes were waiting.

* * *

**Alright, so maybe not as sad as I'd hoped, but hey, so this one took a different tone. That's okay. I think. But tell me what YOU thought! Please, please, please, please, PLEASE review!**


	5. Parker

**And now, last but not least, Parker. But as a matter of fact, not last at all. See below, please! This was my favorite idea, but I'm not thrilled with the way it turned out. Please lemme know what YOU think.**

* * *

Hardison had never known there was this much pain in the world.

He stood in front of the screen, rooted to the spot. It felt as if everything was moving around him in slow motion. He could dimly hear the others talking, shouting, pleading with the man taking up half the screen. But he couldn't focus on anything aside from the other half, where the girl he had promised to keep safe was struggling against two enormous guards. She writhed around to spit in one's face and he slapped her so hard she practically spun out of his grip.

"Hardison. Hardison! Snap out of it!" All of a sudden Nate was shaking him, pulling him around so he couldn't see the screen anymore. "Can you track her? Is there anyway you can find her?"

"No, man! She's got... she had trackers in her shoes, but I can't find them. They're gone."

"What about her earpiece?"

"It's gone, too!"

"Have you gotten hits on where she is? Or on the men?"

"Nothing! Believe me, you'd have been the first person I'd tell!"

Furiously, Nate spun back towards the man on the screen. "What the hell do you want from us?" he demanded.

"I just want you to watch," the man growled, voice low and rough. "You made me watch as my money slipped through my fingers and my daughter died from a goddamned car accident because we couldn't pay to get her moved up on the donor list."

"I lost my son," Nate told him, voice poison. "And the people who were supposed to help stood by and watched as he was devoured from the inside out. I have paid a thousand times over for any sin I've committed. Don't do this."

The man simply severed his connection, restoring the video of Parker to full screen. One of the guards stepped away, placed his hand to his ear for a moment, then nodded to his companion. The second man gave Parker a rough kick in the stomach, winding her for long enough to get out the door. As soon as it was shut she was up again, throwing herself at it harshly, again and again.

"Nate," Elliot said in a whisper. "What do we do?"

The mastermind gave no answer.

On screen, Parker stopped her attack on the door and stood back, frantically surveying the room. No windows. Just the one door. She bit her lip, hard, then her eyes landed on the camera. She middle-fingered it.

Back in the room, Hardison let out a roar as he spun around, upending the nearest table, blood pounding in his ears, entire world in high-def. He kicked at the wall furiously, lashing out at anythign within his reach. But then Elliot was behind him, arms around his stomach, pinning him down. "Breathe," he was saying. And slowly Hardison stopped fighting.

Sophie was crying, head in her hands, unable to look at the screen. Nate had placed a hand on her shoulder, but, in contrast, couldn't keep his eyes off the transmission. Elliot slowly let go of Hardison, let him turn back to the others.

"Turn it off," Elliot said slowly. "Turn it off!"

They ignored him.

Parker had turned her attention back to the door, but now she had crouched down, intently studying the lock. They all held their breaths but she gave up quickly, standing and backing up against the wall. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, trembling, staring wildly around the room. Hardison reached out, almost touched the video, then pulled his hand back as if he had been burned.

"They pumped electricity into him," Nate said hoarsely, transfixed on a scene none of the others could see. "And he would jerk up, flop back down, and then they would shock him again."

Sophie let a small yelp escape then stumbled for the bathroom. Elliot spun on his heel and followed her. Hardison stayed staring at the video. "You love her, don't you?" Nate asked suddenly, back in reality. The hacker didn't answer. No answer was required.

All of a sudden, the man appeared on the TV again, grinning broadly, holding up a remote control. "Oh, only two of you still here?" he asked, mock-disappointed. "Well, it will have to do, I guess. Be sure to tell them what they missed."

"Don't do this," Nate said, one last desperate plea. "If it's money you want-"

He shook his head. And then he pressed the button.

* * *

It was freezing out, the type of snowless night where the wind cuts you to the bone, where your breath comes out as colored as a smoker's, where flowers wilt and die and the air sucks the moisture into itself. But that was the feeling Elliot was looking for, up on top of the apartment buildings. He had positioned his chair close to the edge, where the best view of the city lights was. And so he sat in his chair, blanket wrapped around him, freezing his ass off.

Best of all, it was silent. There were cars honking and people shouting down below, of course, and airplanes roaring above and the wind hissing around him, but not another person. Noone else talking to him, expecting him to listen, expecting him to give a damn. That was the way he liked it. Him and the cold and the silence.

_There's something wrong with you._

And her, of course. He wouldn't ever be free of her.

How long had it been? Two weeks? A month already? Time blurred. Day passed into day without any sort of marker. Not strictly true- the first couple of days he marked by how many of them he had killed. But once they were all dead, or at least all of them he could find, there was no real way to tell time.

He wasn't drunk at the moment, though he had been often enough over to past few days. Oddly enough, he was the only one who was. They all had their vices- Hardison had his isolation, Sophie had her sleeping pills, and Nate had his clients. Elliot had his beer and their blood, and between the two, he had just enough to get by.

A small part of his mind told him that someone should check on Hardison, but he told himself to leave it to one of the others. They had always fancied themselves the parents, after all. Nate unwillingly, Sophie only too happy to take on the role- but that role came with the hard jobs too, and Elliot was sick of doing it for them. Doing everything for them.

Truth be told, he was terrified. Terrified Sophie would take a few pills too many or Nate would go over the deep end or Hardison would just give up. And he was terrified that when that time came, he hadn't done anything about it. But greater was the all-consuming apathy.

_100 pounds of crazy in a 20 pound bag._

There was always the off chance that he would lose it, too, but that wasn't likely. After all, they still needed someone to watch their backs- god only knew they couldn't do it themselves. And if nothing else, he was going to protect the rest of them with everything he had in him. Which, of course, begged the question why he was up here instead of making sure Hardison hadn't gone and strung himself up.

For a moment, he contemplated getting up- folding up his chair, going down the stairs, getting in the car, driving to the warehouse. But all of it seemed so damned tiring. He had no energy anymore, none. The smallest things like brushing his teeth had suddenly turned painful. He had to do it, though. All the normal, every day things. Dinner. Shower. The occasional bit of gardening. He did it all, just because he knew he had to give them hope that things could be normal again. Funny, really, how the loss of the one who kept things from being normal made it absolutely impossible for things to ever go back.

* * *

Sophie was dead asleep, which Nate supposed was good, and in his arms, which he knew was good, and sitting up on the couch, which was definitely bad because it meant he was trapped there, too, until those goddamned pills wore off. At least she looked peaceful. Asleep, hair falling over her face, eyes closed, almost smiling, was the only time she looked relaxed anymore. Not that he could blame her. It was better that she slept it all away, he knew it was, but for him it was miserable. He was more alone than ever now.

She shifted, just enough for him to get away with disturbing her too much. He leaned her against the arm and found a blanket, dimming the lights for her. And then he tripped into the kitchen, up onto the stool, and dropped his head onto the counter. The cool marble was good, pressing into his forehead, waking him up. Though maybe it would be better if he could sleep too. He still wasn't sure why he couldn't just lose himself like Sophie did. He wanted to think that it was because he wanted to take care of her, but he couldn't quite make himself believe it.

He spent all his time now looking for clients. He didn't know if the others would ever want to do a job again, but to him, it didn't actually matter what they did. It was the search that was important. They could bring down anyone they wanted, if they chose. The world was at their command. They had all the control. If only they had had it when it really mattered. Because no matter what anyone said, Nate knew that it was his fault.

Briefly he wondered where the boys were, but let the thought slide out of his mind. He had been a parent once and suffered for it. He had been a parent again, and again paid more than his due. He wasn't going to make the same mistake a third time. Their choices were on their own shoulders now. He was sick and tired of taking care of everyone.

He glanced back in the other room- Sophie hadn't moved, but at least her chest was still rising and falling. What he didn't tell her was that he had replaced some of her sleeping pills with sugar ones, just in case. He didn't want her joining her favorite.

Nate blinked and all of a sudden four hours had passed and the sky outside the window was tinged with a light pink. Shaking his head wearily, completely disoriented he climbed to his feet and was heading back into the living room when the phone rang.

"Nate Ford."

_"What the hell happened?"_

"Archie?"

_"You tell me right now, _what the hell happened?_"_

"How did you find out?"

_"Stop stalling and tell me what happened to my girl!"_

"Job gone wrong," he answered simply.

_"I'm going to kill you, Mr. Ford."_

"Please, have a go. Try to come in the evening, that's when I'm at my lowest."

_Click._

Nate sat back, staring down at the phone. Would he deserve it, if Archie really did come after him? Would he fight back? He licked dry lips- not because he thought the man would actually come, if he was putting money on it, he would say no- but because he honestly didn't know what he would do. Slowly he placed it back on the receiver. He blinked, ran his hands through his hair. Wondering.

"Nate?"

He glanced over to where Sophie was just awakening. "Morning."

"Who was it?"

A long pause. "Nobody."

Another long pause. "Alright."

A slight commotion as Elliot let himself in the front. "Hey."

Nate felt a strange urge to laugh. The one word conversations were getting more and more frequent, and more and more ridiculous. But the truth was they had nothing to say to each other. They were all to busy blaming themselves and everybody else. "Hey."

"Has anyone heard from Hardison?" the hitter asked. Nate just shrugged.

"I'll go check on him," Sophie offered, to the men's surprise.

"Can you drive?"

She smiled wryly. "I'm not drunk, Nate. I'll be fine."

"Thanks."

Without a response, she headed out. There was a long silence as Nate put the coffee on. "Want some?" he offered, awkwardly avoiding Elliot's eyes. Elliot didn't blame him for what happened, he knew, but he did blame him for how he was asking now. But what was he supposed to do?

"Nah. I'm gonna head out." Elliot turned and quickly left, and again, as always, Nate was alone.

* * *

**IMPORTANT A/N: Thanks to a friend (literally :D) for the generally epic idea of adding on one more chapter, in which they're all trapped together. Yep, that's gonna happen next and prob be the real closing chapter. So please, stay tuned. And also, REVIEW!**


	6. Team

**A/N: Wow, THIS was a long time in the coming! I just... sort of hit a dry spell. But you know what brought me back? http :/ www .fanfiction. net/s/ 6840063 /7/. I had no idea that this was even going on, but I was nominated for best angst author, and this story was nominated for best 'dead' story (one that hasn't been updated- oops) and came in second for best angst story! All I can say is thank you so much to those who nominated and voted for me, and of course to everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted, etc. It means so much, I can't even say. Anyways, Leverage is back, and I hope you all enjoyed the season opener as much as I did. But on to the story!**

* * *

"I'm frightened."

Sophie's soft plea practically wrenched Nate's heart in two. Having no answer for her, he simply reached out and took her hand, meeting her eyes silently. Why lie to her? She knew better. She moved closer to him, trembling leg against his. Elliot still worked on the door, running his hands up and down along it, ramming into it, trying desperately to break through. On the other side of the room, Parker was running at the wall, climbing quickly up and banging on the ceiling above before dropping back down without any more results than before. Hardison stood studying the bomb, muttering under his breath frantically. But Sophie and Nate already knew there was no way out.

Nate almost felt relieved. He was _tired_. The jobs, the team, had both revived him, but it all came back to his son's lifeless body and now, maybe he would see him again soon. But Hardison, Parker, Elliot, Sophie especially, none of them were supposed to be here. And he could see their fear written all over their faces. He had known, somewhere, in the back of his mind, that one day one of their cases would go wrong. He just hadn't known how drastically.

Hardison gave up, backing away from the bomb into the wall, face tight. "No good, man," he told them. "Nothing I can do without at least a phone."

Elliot was next. He backed away from the door, face white and clenched, shaking his head. Seemingly unable to speak, he dropped down onto the ground, knees up to his chest. Sophie pulled away from Nate and crouched beside the hitter, resting a hand on his shoulder, speaking softly into his ear. Nate hesitated a moment, trying to wish for something, _anything, _but came up blank. He sat with the other two, with them but seperated by a wall of cold resignation.

Parker was still trying, practically in tears. She let out a feral shriek as she tore at the final ceiling tile and Hardison finally stepped in, grabbing her as she hit the ground, preventing her from going back up. "Damn, girl, breathe," he told her, a cracking voice the only sign of the turmoil surely going on within him. Nate looked away from the pair. Guilt ate at him from the inside out for not truly regretting everything that had led them here.

* * *

Hardison's heart hammered in his chest, and he saw the world as Elliot must have, crystal clear yet slightly warped, through a haze of adrenaline. He was at once aware of twenty different things yet able to pour his energy into one action. He'd never been much of a fighter, but he understood that if he _was_ to fight, this was the feeling he wanted. The problem was that there wasn't anything to fight, except maybe his own fear. He'd rather face a 12 foot tall black belt with pepper spray, at the moment.

Parker's lighter eyes met his, her lower lip trembled, her chest hitched as her breath got stuck in his throat. She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. He reached out, ran his fingers through a section of hair, waited for her to compose herself. She blinked rapidly. "It's not fair," she said at last.

"I know it's not, but neither is life," he told her in an undertone. There was another long pause. Their breaths matched each other. She finally stepped closer, barely an inch separating their chests.

"I'm a murderer," she told him solemnly. "Did you know that?"

"Yeah."

"I've killed..." She paused. "Six people. One of them was a cop."

Hardison hesitated before speaking, trying to figure out whether she _wanted_ to discuss this or felt obliged to do so. "None of that matters now," he said at last, reaching down and taking her hands in his. He wanted more than anything for her to be safe. The one thing he really wanted, and the one thing he couldn't have. She was in this with him, and maybe, just maybe, that made it slightly more bearable for them both. But still, if he could have been given anything, he would have wanted her to have a second chance.

"But that's just it. It all matters," she said cryptically then, and standing on her toes, leaned forwards and pressed her mouth to his. It was barely as long as a single breath, but it was enough to truly tear his heary apart. He sank down to the ground besides the others, pulling her with him.

* * *

"You did everything you could," Sophie whispered in Elliot's ear. He leaned into her hand against his shoulder, silently more thankful than he ever had been for her. "For five years, you kept us safe. No one could have done better. Now all you can do is be strong for them. And for me." He finally twisted around, meeting her tear-filled eyes. He impulsively reached out and wrapped her in a hug. Her whole body was shaking, but she still somehow was managing not to cry. He realized in that instant that he had never been as strong as her.

He looked over her shoulder, trying to meet Nate's eyes, but the older man was a million miles away, staring off in to space, huddled down, looking somehow much smaller. Parker and Hardison sat just beyond him, his arms were tight around her. Elliot couldn't be sure, but it almost looked like Parker was crying. Elliot took Sophie's hand, pulled her over to the pair. Parker let go of Hardison long enough to wrap herself around Sophie. The two men turned to each other, then Elliot reached out and hugged him.

"This blows," he said.

"Agreed," Hardison told him. "I hope someone will step it up once we're gone. There are a hell of a lot of people out there who still need our help."

Elliot was about to reply but suddenly found the blond thief in his arms. "Thanks," she told him.

"Hey, we're all together, right?" he asked. She was his baby sister, and she was about to be blown to bits. They were all going to be blown to bits. Like being together made any of this better.

"Right," she said, and switched back to Hardison. Elliot looked away, met Sophie's eyes again. He reached out, took her hand in his. Being in it together did make it all better.

* * *

So much as looking at one of three simply killed Sophie, but she looked at them and hugged them and comforted them because she loved them more than anything, because she had to do something to ease their fear. And she was afraid, too. She wasn't ready to die. She had somehow convinced herself that she was invulnerable, but now she couldn't think of anything but all the things she wouldn't get to do. She squeezed Elliot's hand tightly, then looked over to Nate, who wouldn't look at any one of them. His face was unreadable, except to her. She knew every line in his face, and read perfectly the sheer relief. She loved him for it.

"Nate," she said softly. He blinked, but didn't look at her. "_Nate."_ She bit her tongue. "Please listen to me."

"Yeah?"

"I hope you get to see your son again soon."

"I do too."

"I love you."

He fell silent again, biting down so hard on his bottom lip the skin burst and a drop of blood appeared. Elliot's hand tightened around hers and she looked over to see him rubbing at his eyes. Once again, she choked over the ball in her throat and was barely able to hold back tears. She moved closer to him, their knees touching, and he reached out and took Parker's hand with his free one. Sophie looked at each of the three, briefly sent up a silent thanks for each, as well as a prayer that whoever was up there understood that being thieves didn't make them bad people. She had never believed in God, or heaven, or hell, but better safe than sorry. Especially in their case.

She glanced up at the timer and waited.

* * *

Parker felt like she couldn't breathe. The whole world was crushing down on her, spinning, choking her. She had been near death before, and it had always been frightening, but not like this. It had never been so certain, and she had never had quite so much to lose. She gripped Elliot's calloused hand tightly, as tightly as she could, and sat close enough to Hardison to feel him breathing. She needed to feel him breathing.

The clock was ticking down. It wasn't actually ticking, but her heart was beating in time with the flashing numbers, pounding so loudly in her ears that it seemed as if it was. The whole world seemed hazy and she kept seeing the faces of those she'd killed all the way back to the first pair of foster parents. She hadn't thought about them except in dreams since she'd run away that day. She'd thought about her past, certainly, but all of the different parents blurred together. Until now.

Their circle was incomplete. She saw that, even as the rest of the world blurred around her. There was a hole where Nate should be. She glanced over at him and he looked even more shaken then she did. But Sophie let go of Elliot just for a moment, rose and crouched down beside the mastermind. She didn't say a word, just waited. And finally he looked up at her and nodded, took her hand, took Hardison's hand. Parker relaxed. They were all together, five pieces from different puzzles that fit perfectly. And it was okay. They'd been given more than any one of them deserved.

She glanced up at Hardison again, just as he looked down at her. He smiled slightly, but, just like Sophie, didn't say a word. It was enough.

She closed her eyes, forced a breath. She didn't want to know how much time they had left.

She didn't see as the timer hit 0.

* * *

**So? I'll ask y'all one last time. Review? Please? What'd ya think of this last section and of the entire story? Again, thanks for all the support, and stay tuned!**


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